The Last Battle
by Pantstheterrible
Summary: Harry and Voldemort battle it out. Who will win? Who will win! WHO WILL WIN!


Disclaimer: All the characters, places and objects in this story were created by JK Rowling. I just move them about like puppets and stuff words in their mouths. The words of Dumbledore at the end of the fic were completely written by JK herself, I just recycled them.  
  
A/N: One night I was thinking about all the rumors and theories I had heard about the final Harry/Voldie showdown. Some of them fell in place in my head and created a story which I relate to you here. Enjoy.  
  
Summary: Harry and Voldemort battle it out. Who will win? Who will win?! WHO WILL WIN?!!  
  
The Last Battle  
  
Harry was jostled between students rushing, pouring into the Great Hall. Some were screaming while others appeared to have no idea what was going on. Some, Draco Malfoy included, merely looked smug. "This can't be good," Harry thought; he was among the uninformed.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his robes tearing. He whirled around to face Neville Longbottom. "Sorry Harry! I didn't mean to step on your robes! Do you have any idea what is going on?" Harry barely had time to shake his head as McGonagall hustled the stragglers into the Great Hall. The ceiling reflected a sky that was dark and stormy, an unhappy sky. Professors McGonagall and Vector went around the Hall bolting doors. The clamor of anxious voices in the enclosed room made Harry's ears ring. Fortunately, the crowd fell into complete silence when Dumbledore rose to speak.  
  
"I have very grave news, very grave indeed," he said in mournful tones. "Lord Voldemort has gained access to the castle. We believe he has headed into the Chamber of Secrets. Aurors will arrive soon to take hold of the situation. We will keep you informed. Meanwhile you will all stay in the Great Hall. I do not expect you to sleep under such conditions, but to uphold the proprieties...," he waved his hand, and the tables moved against the walls, purple sleeping bags appearing on the floor, just as they had four years previously.  
  
Without anymore ado the professors filed out of the Hall, bolting the door behind them. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around. The hand belonged to Hermione, and standing behind her was Ron.  
  
Looking at them together he realized he wasn't angry anymore. He had been silly to be upset by the startling news that they were now a couple. Now, more than ever, they needed to be united.  
  
"Guys, I'm sorry...," he began as they too began to speak. Harry smiled and so did they, an unspoken understanding passed between them. They sat down, leaning against the wall, and began to discuss Dumbledore's news. "But how did he get _in_?" said Ron, running fingers through his hair.  
  
"Tuh! Isn't it obvious?" tutted Hermione.  
  
"Care to explain?"  
  
"He couldn't apparate in and if he had forced the gate we would have heard," she replied vaguely.  
  
"How about you stop telling us how he didn't get in and focus on how he _did_!" said Ron exasperatedly.  
  
"If you're going to take that tone I just might not tell you."  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Please Hermione, just tell us," begged Harry.  
  
"All right then. I would imagine Wormtail told him about the passage from the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow."  
  
"Hermione, you are brilliant!"  
  
"It was just common sense Ron."  
  
Just then Nearly Headless Nick floated through the wall they were leaning on. "Any news?" inquired Harry.  
  
"The aurors have arrived but they cannot get very far within the chamber. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has charmed the passage ways so the torches won't light. The lights from their wands just aren't adequate. And they have encountered a barrier of stones. Even if they were to overcome the issue of lighting, it would take them too long to break through. They have gone to the library to regroup." He sighed and drifted away to tell the others. Harry knew that there was only one way through that barrier, and you would have to look closely to find it.  
  
"I have to go down there."  
  
"Harry you can't!" implored Hermione.  
  
"There's no point, mate! You couldn't see a thing! Only a mad-man would go in there!" Ron added.  
  
Harry grinned sardonically. "Well, people still say I'm mad..."  
  
"But Harry! He'll, Voldemort" (Ron flinched as she said it) "will kill you for sure! You wouldn't be able to see him coming at you! And even if you had a light he'd see you too! Harry, you just can't! Accept that!" Hermione finished her tirade, breathing heavily. Ron clasped her hand reassuringly.  
  
"She's right you know."  
  
"If I can get my cloak he can't see me..."  
  
"But you still CANT SEE HIM!!!" People around stared at them, wondering why Hermione was yelling.  
  
"Hermione, hush," Ron soothed.  
  
"I could get the sword from Dumbledore's office," he continued, as if Hermione had said nothing, "and if I bring the Hand of Glory..."  
  
"You actually _bought_ that horrid thing!?!" Hermione demanded.  
  
"Hermione, not so loud!"  
  
"Yeah, I bought it. I felt that someday I'd need it, so when you guys went back to Diagon Alley, I bought it. But, the point is, if I have that and the cloak I can see him but he can't see me. Our wands wont do battle so I need a weapon. Gryffindor's sword will do nicely. What other options do I have?"  
  
"So you're just going to sneak up on him in the dark and run him through? So many things could go wrong!"  
  
"Well, at least she didn't shout that time."  
  
"RON!!"  
  
"Hermione, I can do it!"  
  
"But Harry, what if you can't?" tears were now in her eyes.  
  
"He killed my parents, and he nearly killed me many times, and I'm supposed to let him do as he pleases? I'm NOT going to stand aside and let him tear more families apart!" People edged away from them.  
  
"Harry if you're determined we're going with you."  
  
"No you're not! The Hand of Glory only gives light to the bearer! And I really need to do this on my own. It's my score to settle."  
  
Without saying anything else Ron and Hermione slowly unbolted the nearest door as Harry slid out. They bolted it behind him. He cautiously set out for Gryffindor Tower, wishing he had the Marauder's Map with him. Luckily he made it undetected to the portrait hole. "Butterbeer" he said, and the Fat Lady swung forward hardly awake.  
  
He went up to his dormitory and collected his father's invisibility cloak, the Marauder's Map, the Hand of Glory and a candle. He laid the map on his bedside table and tapped it, muttering "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He placed the candle on the Hand of Glory and lit it with his wand. He pocketed his wand and draped the cloak over himself. He clutched the map in one hand and the Hand of Glory in the other. He precariously set out for Dumbledore's office.  
  
Harry approached the stone gargoyle. He searched his brain for the password, as it had been a week ago when Dumbledore had summoned him into his office. "Er...Fizzing Whizbees." The gargoyle jumped aside, allowing Harry to enter. He rode the rotating staircase up to the office; the map told him that only Fawkes was in there.  
  
The portraits were snoring as usual. He made his way his way over to the case holding the sword of Godric Gryffindor. There was no doubt about it; the map had to go in his pocket. He took one last survey of it and tapped it with his wand. "Mischief managed". He then pointed his wand at the lock on the case and whispered "Alohamora". It clicked open. He picked up the sword, realizing that he had to be careful with it as he didn't have a sheath. It took a delicate balancing act, but he managed it.  
  
He left Dumbledore's office feeling exposed without the map. He could only pray that he made it safely to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  
  
Harry let the door slam behind him. "Oooooh! Who's there?" inquired Moaning Myrtle, the ghost of a girl who had died when the chamber was first opened fifty-five years earlier. "Come to tease me?"  
  
"No, Myrtle, it's me."  
  
"So, you never come to see me, but you expect to waltz back into my death like no time has passed? I don't think so."  
  
Harry ignored Myrtle as he inspected the faucets. He finally found it, a tiny snake carved on one of the copper taps. He willed himself to speak in Parseltongue, the language of the snakes, and hissed "_open_".  
  
The sink moved aside revealing a large pipe opening. He wrapped the sword in the cloak and carefully slid down the chute and landed at the bottom.  
  
If it hadn't been for the Hand of Glory, he would have been completely engulfed in darkness. He continued forward until he encountered a barrier of rock. He searched it for the obscure gap barely large enough to slide through. He thrust through his bundle first and crawled through himself, trying desperately not to snuff the candle. Once through, he scooped up the cloak with the sword still wrapped up in it and continued on through tunnel after tunnel, with no idea where he was going.  
  
_Maybe Hermione was right_, thought Harry bitterly. _I'll get lost and never leave this place_.  
  
He felt himself collide with another person from behind. He crashed to the floor spilling his armful. The candle rolled off the Hand of Glory and promptly went out. He was in total darkness, collapsed on the floor along with an unknown person. Had he run in to an Auror? Or maybe...but surely Voldemort would not blunder around in the dark. Suddenly he felt his arm enclosed in an icy cold grip, as if his skin was touching cool metal. He now knew who he had encountered, Wormtail, Lord Voldemort's most faithful servant.  
  
"Master! Master!" he cried. "Someone has entered the chamber!"  
  
"Bring them to me!" He felt a shiver go down his spine as he heard the high-pitched voice of Voldemort. Wormtail maintained his grip and yanked Harry to his feet and led him around a corner.  
  
Harry was blinded by a sudden rush of light. "I thought the torches wouldn't light," he heard himself say.  
  
"You really didn't think I'd blunder around in the dark, Harry? Not at all my style! I bewitched the passages as I went." Harry forced his eyes open and met Voldemort's gaze.  
  
"Wormtail, keep a firm grip on Harry for me. I wouldn't want him to get lost and meet an unfortunate end." He laughed. Harry hated that laugh. He lunged but Wormtail's grip was too strong. "Meanwhile I have to search." Voldemort turned around and felt the stone wall.  
  
"What are you looking for?" asked Harry, trying to remain calm.  
  
"A weapon. I had a dream and the great Salazar Slytherin told me it was down here. That I had to find it." His back turned to Harry, but Wormtail's grip was as strong as ever. Suddenly Voldemort gasped and then laughed gleefully. Harry could feel his happiness too. "Wormtail help me."  
  
"But my lord, the boy..."  
  
"He can not get very far, and I shall enjoy hunting him. We mustn't make it too easy." Wormtail reluctantly released his arm. Harry fought his curiosity and rounded the corner. He could hear the grinding of stone on stone. He kneeled down in the dark and fumbled around for his lost burden.  
  
He felt shock and irritation quite unassociated with his own emotions. "This is it?! Very well, he is unarmed. It will be easy."  
  
He felt his hand connect with the cloak; he reached within the folds and felt cold metal. He drew out the sword and pulled the cloak over his head.  
  
He stuck out his free hand and felt his way back into the lighted room. Voldemort was holding a sword. Two silver snakes were entwined around the handle and hilt, with emeralds for eyes. "Harry, where are you?" he queried in silky tones. "Have you wandered off into the dark? Don't be afraid, I'll find you." Wormtail was standing in a corner looking nervous.  
  
Harry quietly positioned himself behind Voldemort. The cloak would have to come off; there was no doubt about it. It would cumber his attempts at an attack. But if he were behind Voldemort he would still have the element of surprise. He let the cloak drop to the floor; he raised the sword of Godric Gryffindor...  
  
"Master! Behind you!" Voldemort spun around, whipping Harry with his robes, and met his blow.  
  
"So young Harry, are you going to kill me?" he hissed.  
  
Harry said nothing. Instead he slashed at Voldemort who once again parried him. "I have a better idea," said Voldemort with a grin. "How about I kill you like I killed your parents?" Harry roared with rage and plunged his sword at him. Voldemort barely dodged the blade. _Maybe if I keep him talking_, Harry thought, _he'll get sloppy. And maybe I'll get lucky_.  
  
He then said aloud to Voldemort "I anger you don't I? I keep slipping from your clutch." Voldemort slashed at him but he blocked it.  
  
"But you've always had help. This time is different. No one's here to save you. How does that make you feel? Frightened?" Voldemort sneered. He struck again. Harry was ready.  
  
"No, _you're_ frightened. You can feel it, you know it. I'm going to defeat you. The great Dark Lord will fall at the hands of a mere boy." Voldemort abandoned all skill and hacked sloppily at Harry. Harry swung out his sword, forcing Voldemort against the wall and levered Voldemort's sword from his grip. It clattered to a stop at Wormtail's feet.  
  
Both Harry and Voldemort froze, watching Wormtail. "Return it to me," wheezed Voldemort. Wormtail looked from Voldemort to Harry where his gaze paused. He bent down and picked it up but he did not approach Voldemort.  
  
"Return it to me!" he said again.  
  
"No." Wormtail uttered the single word softly, but the impact of what it meant reverberated around the room.  
  
Harry's scar erupted with pain and Voldemort's rage pulsed through his body. "You piece of filth! You vile vermin! You will pay, you understand. I will kill you!" shrieked Voldemort.  
  
"Not if the boy kills you first."  
  
"You'd do this to me? You'd do this to you Master? Think of all I've done for you!" Harry couldn't believe it, Lord Voldemort was begging, begging for his life.  
  
"You forget, _Master_," he said it with contempt, "I betrayed my best friend. Didn't you think that someday I may betray _you_?" Wormtail held the sword loosely and leaned back against the wall, as if he were watching children at play.  
  
Voldemort made as if to rush at him, but Harry placed the tip of his sword a scant distance from his throat. He was pinned against the wall, helpless. "Going to kill me Harry?" he whispered. Harry could have easily slit his throat and ended his life but the thought made him sick. Was he really going to deal out death? Was he really going to end his life? His hand began to shake. He looked into Voldemort's eyes. After all the transformations he had put himself through he was still human, he had a life. He couldn't do it. He lowered his sword and ran into the dark.  
  
He fell to his knees and clutched his head. He couldn't go back up and face the world. He had failed them. He heard a scuffle back in the room. "Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort's high-pitched voice cried. Harry saw a flash of green light shine around the corner and heard a sword clatter to the stone floor.  
  
He stood up and held his sword in front of him. Straining his ears, he could hear heavy breathing and feet pounding stone. He braced himself, ready for the attack. He was nearly knocked of his feet. He heard a gasp and the sword was wrenched downwards from his grasp.  
  
Suddenly he felt pain beyond his wildest dreams in his chest, as if a sword had run right through him. He felt his chest in the dark but he was untouched, there was no blood. But he felt as if his life was draining from him. Voldemort was dying and he was dying too.  
  
Memories played before his eyes. He was a baby, and his mother was singing to him. He was a little older and learning to walk. When he reached his father he scooped him into his arms with pride. There was a flash of light and a cold high pitched laugh. Dudley was pushing him in the mud. Ripper was chasing him up a tree. He was opening his Hogwart's letter. He was fighting the mountain troll with Ron and Hermione...RON AND HERMIONE! The reel of memories paused on their faces. He could see them clearly. Others joined them, others that he loved. "_**There is a room in the Department of Mysteries**_..." Dumbledore's voice rang clear in his ears "_**it contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature...It is the power held within that room that you posses in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all...In the end it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you**_." He felt his heart overflow with love, and he felt warmth spread throughout his body. Life returned to him. Suddenly the torches on the wall blazed into life with a dazzling brilliance. He looked down at his feet and beheld Voldemort lifeless, impaled on the sword of Godric Gryffindor.  
  
Harry heard ethereal music reverberating off the walls and knew Fawkes was coming. The phoenix landed next to him. Harry gathered up both swords, the Hand of Glory and went to retrieve his father's invisibility cloak. He returned to Fawkes and barely managed to grab hold of his magnificent tail. Fawkes took off and bore Harry out of the chamber. 


End file.
